


Worried Sick

by mudkipwrites



Series: Quarantine Cuddles [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, Comfort Reading, Ficlets, Gen, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites
Summary: Part 4 of a collection of KalluZeb sick-fics based upon various prompts and suggestions. I hope they provide you with a little distraction and cheer during this time! Stay sane out there! <3
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Series: Quarantine Cuddles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025896
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Worried Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: “Kallus is 90% anxiety" and "Kallus is basically just anxiety on wheels"

* * *

When Garazeb Orrelios does not join him for lunch, Alexandr Kallus begins to worry. 

Outside of not greeting his big Lasat boyfriend around base today, it has been a typical morning on Yavin IV. As usual, he’d inspected the cargo ships as they’d arrived and departed; he’d managed several intelligence meetings and briefings; and he’d even been able to assist with the decrypting some updates sent from various other rebel hideouts today. But, unusually, he had seen neither hide nor hair of the other man since leaving the sleeping barracks.

 _Where is that furball?,_ he wonders, spooning fresh meiloorun into his mouth. _It’s not like Garazeb to be late for a meal._ A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. _Or,_ _for that matter, to ever be late in spending time with me._

It's been just over three months since he'd started the rebel Lasat, and by his estimation, things have been going _very_ well. Unlike while he was Fulcrum, Kallus looks forward to seeing Zeb several times every day. He looks forward to waking up every sunrise and running his hands through Zeb's striped, purple fur. He looks forward to greeting him out and around base throughout the day-- _with an affectionate nuzzle or kiss, if he's lucky._ He looks forward to joining together for their mid-day lunch, sharing stories from their solo adventures. In the hours that follow, he looks forward to glancing once or twice out the Intelligence center window, seeing Zeb hauling impressively-sized cargo crates. And _afterward_...Well. He _always_ looks forward to going home to their shared quarters. 

And today, with the man's evident absence, he feels more anxious to see his boyfriend than ever. 

“Well,” Kallus sighs, feigning calm, “I’d best go and check in on Garazeb.” He's seated at the lunch table in the mess hall next to Hera, who has come to be one of his steady friends. The green Twi'lek woman's presence is soothing, and it helps him to remain calm as the building anxiety inside of his chest threatens to pour over into a shrillness. "Haven't seen him around yet today." 

Hera, clearly thinking that this was all planned, grins up at him. "Don't take too long," she advises. "It's past time for a morning lie-in, and the other generals tend to notice when our two best captains go missing." 

Kallus blushes scarlet. While he has grown into a state of warm familiarity with Hera and the other members of the Ghost crew, he's still not _entirely_ comfortable with their open displays of affection, and what she might be suggesting right now. _Particularly_ , when it comes to someone as significant to the fate of the Rebellion as General Syndulla, he finds himself growing uncomfortable swapping such topics as pillow-talk. “I’m f-fairly certain that this is not an attempted seduction, General,” he replies stumblingly. 

Hera waves away the formality. “Either way, have a good time. See you!” She toasts him with a wink. 

“Bye." Doing his best to keep his trembling hands steady, Kallus gathers his scattered belongings and shoves them haphazardly into his pack. But his anxiety has nothing to do with the awkwardness of his exchange with Hera, and everything to do with the various possibilities of what has become of Zeb in his strange absence. _It’s fine. I’m fine, Zeb’s fine, we’re all just fine,_ he tells himself. _I’m certain that everything is just perfectly fine._

Kallus shoulders his pack and hurries out into the warm, afternoon sunshine. 

The streets of Yavin IV's rebellion base are crowded. There is a pleasant murmur of chatter, and sunshine pours down upon his sleeveless shoulders, adding to the bloom of abundant freckles. _Surely, it’s not what she thinks? Garazeb did not skip out work this morning with some kind of elaborate date in mind?_ The thought makes him feel charmed, but also, slightly guilty. _No, no, no. Garazeb is indeed a romantic, but he is also a loyal and dutiful worker._ Kallus smiles fondly, in spite of the building sense of panic. _Just one of the many reasons that he is so very attractive._

Shouldering past a group of pilots, his mind finally begins to slip and spin into overdrive.

 _But...if not that, then what?_ Kallus raises one hand to shade his eyes as he looks at the rapidly approaching barracks. _What could possibly keep Garazeb?_ Beads of sweat break upon his tanned forehead. _What if Zeb’s...injured?_ He thinks with a terrible jolt. And then, suddenly--with this idea--a whole host of terrible thoughts of his partner's undoing are unleashed in a swarming horde. _What if he’s been attacked?_ _Or what if he’s hurt?! Perhaps something has happened to Sabine or Ezra, and Garazeb has left me for a perilous, off-world situation?_ Unable to contain his anxiety any longer, Kallus breaks into a loping run.

By the time he reaches the barracks, he's sprinting. 

“Zeb!” Kallus cries, pounding an urgent first upon their shared door. “Garazeb, are you in there?” There is no answer. In the sickening pause afterward, Kallus breaks into a cold, clammy sweat. “Stand back, Zeb!” he barks. “I’m coming in there!” Inhaling deeply, he recalls a page from his ISB training. The former Imperial takes a step back, recoiling all of his lower-body and core strength, preparing himself for the impact of a kick. With a loud grunt, he exhales and strikes at the jam of the door with the force of his heel. The kick splinters the door wide-open at its weakest joint, snapping and crunching the wood around his point of impact.

“ _Oi!”_ a familiar, sleep-heavy voice bellows. "What're ya doin?" 

_Garazeb! That’s his voice!_ Kallus retracts his foot, eagerly squinting into the boot-sized hole. Inside the bunk room, he can see two large, purple ears twitching from underneath a network of blankets. “Zeb?” he calls. _See? It’s Zeb! It’s fine! I told you. It’s fine._ Kallus wipes at his brow, feeling relief flow through his body like cool water at the sight of his resting mate. He strides across the room, flopping down hurriedly on the mattress. “Garazeb Orrelios! Where in the _Ashla_ have you been?!” 

The fortress of blankets begins to stir, until one glaring, green eye pokes above the covers. 

“M’ _right here,_ Kal," Zeb grumbles. His voice sounds dry and rough as sandpaper. “Just feelin’ a little _u_ nder the weather, is all. Thought that I better just get some extra rest.” Swaying, Kallus blinks and considers it. _Sick?_ He turns, looking towards the broken doorway, where splinters of wood gather around the frame. With a wash of acceptance and realization, he also feels the sick burning of shame. 

“Oh. Well. If _that’s_ it,” he exhales. Flaming with embarrassment, Kallus pats his boyfriend's exposed shoulder. “Then I’m here for you, Zeb. I can help.” 

“I can see that.” Both of Zeb’s eyes and his nose have now emerged from the blankets. Although he looks _terribly_ pale and exhausted, there is a small sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “My hero. You beat down the _door_ .” Once again, Kallus blushes. “Sorry about that. I thought that…” He trails off and sighs. _And why did I think that? It’s not particularly rational. I let my fear get the best of my actions again. And here I am, looking like an idiot._ “I thought that you may be in some kind of trouble.” 

Shifting around in the pile of blankets, Zeb moves to make space for Kallus to join him. He does, crawling on top of the sheets to nestle alongside the Lasat’s overly-warm form. 

“Don’t look so down, Kal.” Garazeb chuckles, releasing one hand to stroke at Kallus’ loosened hair. “M’sure we can get ourselves another door.” 

Kallus winces. “Er, right. I do apologize for that.” 

Zeb purrs at him fondly. “Like I said...my _hero_ .” He continues to pet at Kallus’ head until he finally sighs and relaxes. Scooting closer to the Lasat, until they are lying side by side, Kallus thinks he can hear a wet, rattling sound underneath the acrid smell of his breath. For the first time that he can ever remember, he can agree with the sentiment that Zeb currently _does_ stink. However, he's sure that it's just the illness. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks his boyfriend quietly. 

Zeb shrugs from within his blanket-burrito. “Honestly? I didn’t want to concern ya. Thought you might panic.” 

After a moment of grateful surprise, Kallus laughs. “Oh, Garazeb. There is very little that you could do or say that would prevent me from being concerned about you.” he allows his eyes to drift closed as he rests against the Lasat’s familiar shape and weight. “I will always be watching and waiting for you. I will never be resting until you are by my side.”

“Seems a little excessive,” Zeb yawns. He kisses the top of Kallus’ head, leaving his chin to rest comfortably there. 

“No, not at all.” Kallus replies, relief and honesty flowing through him. “I spent far too much of my life without you, Garazeb, and I don’t think that I can bear to go without. I am to see it that I do not lose you.” There is a shifting in the bed, and then the Lasat has extracted both of his arms. He reaches out and pulls Kallus close against him, purring and stroking the back of his head and his hair. 

“You’re not gonna lose me.” Zeb replies, holding the other man close. “You couldn’t even if you tried.” 

Kallus sighs with bone-deep relief. _Zeb is fine,_ he thinks to himself. _Zeb is right here with me, and he’s fine. We are fine. And we are together._ He allows the reality of this to permeate his body and mind, sinking into the rest that comes with knowing that all things are restored and protected. He knows that there is still lots of work to be done: he knows that he will need to continue to practice his breathing, his _trusting,_ and that, eventually, he will have a better handle on this. Because he also knows that he has the love of Garazeb Orrelios--and that this man, for all that they have been through together, will patiently walk with him every step of the way. 

"I'm glad that you're safe," he murmurs, nuzzling into the other man. "And I'm glad that you took the morning to take care of yourself. Thanks for putting up with me freaking out." 

Zeb rumbles with a noise somewhere between a laugh, a snore, and a purr. "Ya really don't get it, do ya, Kal? I like that you wanna take care and look after me. I don't like that yer stressed, and I don't want you to be anxious, but you _never_ have to apologize for caring about me. I've got yer back: and yo've got mine." He nuzzles into Kallus. "Oh, an by the way? Yer not gonna get out of replacing that door just because yer cute. First thing after we get up, we're gonna put that back on its hinges."

"First thing," Kallus agrees. He yawns, and allows himself to fall into a restful, comforted sleep. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you have the time. <3


End file.
